She was eating an ice cream cone, giggling as small rivers of melted vanilla slid down her fingers. With an effervescent grin, she licked the sides of the cone, hoping not to lose any part of her sweet treat to the heat of the afternoon. Her friend sat beside her, also giggling, knowing that it was futile trying to stay clean while eating this cone. And yet, the girl persisted, enjoying every little taste of her treat as if it were won in sweet victory.
“These are the Muslim girls I told you about,” Toomtaam said as we approached the table.
I gave both of them a wave. Som, a demure young girl with bright eyes and a pale face, grinned and bowed her head. Lukeow attempted to do the same, but giggled sheepishly as her melting ice cream cone was demanding her full attention.
We sat down next to them, as Toomtaam chatted with them in Thai. I watched the two girls, both young and sprightly, bright-eyed and full of life. Lukeow was explaining that she bought ice cream because she was tired, and wanted something to give her energy. Based on her vibrant expressions and daffy grin, it seemed to have worked. “But after this one, no more. I want to be thin,” she stated with a confidence that immediately crumbled under another wave of giggles.
Toomtaam and I had spent the afternoon walking around the campus of Prince of Songkhla University, looking for students who seemed to be free and interested in hearing us share the Gospel. Most of my involvement had been listening and observing, as Toomtaam only spoke some English, and the students we talked to spoke little to none. As the day passed, and Toomtaam and I had walked all over many different courtyard areas of various academic buildings, I got hear a little bit more of his story.
“My family is Buddhist”, Toomtaam told me. “And I was Buddhist too, until someone shared the Gospel with me while I was on campus.” Buddhism was a deep part of his upbringing and his faith system, so he immediately wrote Christianity off after hearing the message from that stranger. “But a couple months later, my friend was invited to attend a Christian Bible Study group one night, and I decided to go – because I wanted to protect her.” The more he attended the Bible Study, and learned more and more about Jesus, he started to realize who Jesus really was. And as weeks went by, and Toomtaam continued to attend the group, he realized he was falling in love with this person named Jesus, and decided to make a commitment to accept Him into his life.
Later that day, Toomtaam’s friend Bon joined us. A goofy young guy with a wispy mop of hair, Bon was all smiles as he and Toomtaam chatted away. We soon took a break to get a smoothie, and Bon opened up. He also came from a Buddhist family, and had heard the Gospel through a Christian evangelist on campus, but didn’t think much to pursue Him more. “I told God that I wouldn’t believe in Him until he proved to me that He was real”, he said. And shortly after, God saved him from a dangerous injury during a football match when he just missed a rogue ball that came flying towards his head. He’s been a believer ever since.
We walked for a couple more hours, sitting down with various students who were mostly distracted preparing for finals. Every time, Toomtaam pulled out a small booklet, and calmly walked the students through the Gospel message illustrated by diagrams and pictures. Some students seemed intrigued, and followed up the message with several questions. Others politely observed but passed up the opportunity to learn more. Soon, the sun began to set which signaled the end of our scheduled ministry time, and so we walked back to the main courtyard where we met up with the two girls.
As we sat with Lukeow and Som, waiting for the other members of the cell group to join, I watched as everyone at the table laughed and joked with each other, as if they had known each other forever. I remembered Toomtaam’s mentioning that Som had only just accepted Christ a couple of months ago. So I asked her about why she chose to leave Islam. Her English was minimal, but through the help of her friends, she answered.
“Someone told me about Jesus on campus, and I believed in Him. But I didn’t want to accept Christ because I didn’t want to tell my family.” She felt a sense of satisfaction after hearing the Gospel that she said she never felt in Islam. She finally accepted Him around Christmastime, and has been getting discipled by an older girl in the cell group since then.
“Do you plan to tell your parents?” I asked.
“Yes, I think I will tell my mother when I go home. I hope she will accept me.”
Lukeow later piped in with her story.
“My Father is Buddhist, and my mother is Muslim,” She said. She had been following the cultural norms of Islam growing up, but she did not feel as if she truly believed in it. She accepted Christ almost a year ago.
“I am worried my mother won’t accept me, because I will have nowhere to go.” It was hard to believe her saying this, as her confident smile seemed to lack any sort of worry. She had no hope if her mother chose to disown her for her faith, but this seemed not to trouble her.
“So, let me get this straight,” I asked. “All of you became Christians from someone sharing the Gospel with you on campus?”
Everyone nodded.
“And each one of you is the only Christian in your family?”
Nods all around.
Looking at the group, I wondered how it was possible they all could be friends. Here were two girls – one shy and sweet, another bright and bubbly; two boys – one with a goofy grin, another with a steely gaze; some young students and some long graduated; some previous Muslims and some previous Buddhists; all sitting together, chatting and laughing as if the barriers didn’t matter. As if there were something greater bringing them together.
Five o’clock rolled around, which meant that it was time for group prayer. Another fifteen students joined our group on the steps of the courtyard. Boi, one of the group leaders, gave a brief message, reading from Romans 10.
“How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can anyone preach unless they are sent? As it is written: ‘How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!’”
And there I saw it. On the campus of Prince of Songkhla University, a church was being born. A church made up of past-Muslims and Buddhists who had come alive to the sound of God’s heartbeat. A church full of rejects and rebels; of courage, passion, and abandon. A church that didn’t sit back, but that moved forward.
This was not a church with a slick sermon series, or a fancy building, or a hip worship band. This was a church full of hungry young Christians who sought after God with their whole hearts. A church that comforted and protected their people amidst persecution. A church that gave daily time and energy to bring more people into the family of God. A church that discipled one another, encouraged one another, and loved on one another. It was like seeing the church in Acts, freshly birthed by the Holy Spirit, coming alive right before my eyes.
Toomtaam told me earlier that day that he’s been doing evangelism on this campus for three years. I found that hard to imagine; spending four hours in the hot sun, walking all over campus, took all of my energy. And yet, Toomtaam did it almost daily. And he’s not the only one – several other student leaders have been doing the same for many years as well, led by a New Zealand missionary who began the Campus Crusade group at Prince of Songkhla. Every day, these students gather on campus for prayer, meet once a week for worship and fellowship, and engage in outreach activities in the evenings and on weekends. They give of themselves however they can to see the Kingdom of God expand on their campus. And whenever a new member joins, the group immediately surrounds them, encourages them to stay strong amidst persecution, and mobilizes them to continue to share their faith with those around them. Not because of duty or obligation or shame, but because of love.
The group eventually parted ways into the evening, and we hugged our new friends and waved goodbye. Only a day had gone by with these young adults, but what I saw in them in these brief hours spent together gave me one thing that carried me peacefully into the night.
Hope.
Hope for a generation that most people believe is walking away from the church. Hope for a generation brave enough to stand up for truth against opposition. Hope for a generation that God will use powerfully in this world.
The world might just see a bunch of crazies and losers, rebels and rejects.
But in these young believers, God’s rogue soldiers, Jesus sees His church.
“So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints, and are of God’s household, having been built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus Himself being the corner stone, in whom the whole building, being fitted together, is growing into a holy temple in the Lord, in whom you also are being built together into a dwelling of God in the Spirit.” Ephesians 2:19-22